Текст песни King TROUP - Young Thug

I just asked God why he called for Troup
When it's time to ride, if you love 'em, nigga, prove it
You know all your lil' niggas gon' shoot shit up for you
I thought I've seen a ghost, because your son look like your food
King Troup
Action
I hop out, I'm dabbin' (I hop out, I'm dabbin')
My old lady classy (my old lady classy)
We onto this fashion (we onto this fashion)
My coupe sit on dabs (my coupe sit on dabs)
Hop out with a bad bitch (hop out with a bad bitch)
My faculty braggin' (my faculty braggin')
My briefs, they high fashion
She naked, I walk through the door
I promise, I promise she know
I pour up a four and got more
I'm cold as the North fuckin' Pole
I came a long way from the stove
I hop in the foreign, go slow
Iced out, ain't no time in it, oh
I just beat the case
I hopped out the Benz
I just fucked some twins
I had to end it
I hopped out again
Fucked up in the brain
Got drank in my cup
I drink lean like I'm Kirko Bangz
From ashy to classy
Keep up with my ice and my fashion
I take care of my kid with a passion
I pray to God that they stay happy
Lil Roscoe, he see where it's nasty
They could've freed him, 'cause he grew up with no daddy
But instead they took his family and did him badly
Ain't gettin' no fucker, we were savage
Gotta counter from the cup and that's all they had
They also knew that lil' nigga didn't have a wagon
Damn
Action
I hop out, I'm dabbin' (I hop out, I'm dabbin')
My old lady classy (my old lady classy)
We onto this fashion (we onto this fashion)
My coupe sit on dabs (my coupe sit on dabs)
Hop out with a bad bitch (hop out with a bad bitch)
My faculty braggin' (my faculty braggin')
My briefs, they high fashion
She naked, I walk through the door
I promise, I promise she know
I pour up a four and die more
I'm cold as the North fuckin' Pole
I came a long way from the stove
I hop in the foreign, go slow
Iced out, ain't no time in it, oh
Stop it, stop the killin'
We, we get millions
We together, get the cheddar (get them racks)
Fuck them niggas, keep 'em for real
Let 'em have it (let 'em have it)
Ask God for forgiveness for them babies
You know slimes with it, baby, baby
Stack them racks up to the ceiling, hey, hey
Fuck you a nigga's old lady
Keep 'em mad and that's how you know you doin' good
Keep embarrassin' them with racks that look like books
On some Fendi, with these bitches
I need me a real one, I need commitment, where ya at?
Action
I hop out, I'm dabbin' (I hop out, I'm dabbin')
My old lady classy (my old lady classy)
We onto this fashion (we onto this fashion)
My coupe sit on dabs (my coupe sit on dabs)
Hop out with a bad bitch (hop out with a bad bitch)
My faculty braggin' (my faculty braggin')
My briefs, they high fashion (Versace)
She naked, I walk through the door
I promise, I promise she know
I pour up a four and die more
I'm cold as the North fuckin' Pole
I came a long way from the stove
I hop in the foreign, go slow
Iced out, ain't no time in it, oh
She know it, she know it
She know it, she know it
She know it, she know it
She know it, yeah she know it
She know it
She know it
She know it, know it, know it, know it, know it, know it
King Troup